


Words and Stones

by entanglednow



Category: Lost
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-15
Updated: 2010-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-14 17:29:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard never learned how to say no to Jacob</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words and Stones

Something wakes Richard, some barely there sensation that could just as easily be forest or wind. Only he remembers that he fell asleep inside. Stone under him, stone above him and nothing to drift in the wind, nothing to move.

He blinks in the darkness.

His shirt is pushed up, the loose material of it sliding off to one side and falling against his arm in a tickling trail.

Jacob is touching him.

His hand rests flat on his stomach, fingers stilled, as if to feel his warmth, or the thrum of his blood under the skin. Moving then, slow and curious.

Richard sucks a breath, shifts up to his elbows only to be stopped by Jacob's wrist, Jacob's eyes on him.

They stare at each other for a long seconds in the dark, though Richard knows Jacob will always win. He'll always be the one that's unfathomable.

"I would like to kiss you," Jacob says quietly, like it's something he's been waiting to ask. But there's a slight frown on his face. As if he isn't quite sure how to go about such a thing.

Which isn't anything like what Richard was expecting. He frowns wary confusion, because Jacob's curiosity has always seemed remote, distant.

"Where did this come from?" Richard asks cautiously. He's still uncertain how much he's allowed to question. How hard he's allowed to push at the strangeness of him.

"I was watching you," Jacob says simply. Like that's all the reason he needs.

Richard has not had cause to kiss many men, and the experiences have not always been pleasant.

Though he finds himself strangely unwilling, unable, to say no to Jacob. Who doesn't make many small requests and none so lightly, so easily. Nothing that feel like something he simply _wants._

So Richard's left saying nothing at all, and Jacob seems to consider this close enough to assent. His hand lifts from Richard's stomach, touches his cheek, fingers sliding on the skin to find the edge of his hair and push into it.

Jacob's hand is warm, large and undeniably masculine against the side of his face. It's a strange touch, curious, new and yet somehow easy at the same time. Jacob makes a low noise, like he finds the sensation interesting. Like he finds him interesting.

Richard swallows, not entirely sure he wants Jacob to kiss him.

But it's too late because he's already leant forward on one hand, mouth pressed against his own. One slow, gentle increase in pressure. Richard inhales, remains still while Jacob tests his mouth, fingertips moving in his hair. He tips his head, just a little, to make it easier, and Richard is surprised enough that he lets him.

Jacob's leaning into him now, braced over him in the dark and pushing his mouth open, tasting the inside in quick careful licks. There's no resisting the kiss without pulling away, without telling Jacob to stop. So Richard breathes through his nose and allows every curious new touch, every new push. The way Jacob's hand tightens just a little. The way it pushes back, dragging Richard's hair through his fingers and holding him there with gentle demand. Jacob moves his other hand, sliding it back under his shirt to the warmth of his skin and Richard inhales at the ease, at the intimacy of the gesture.

There's a long moment where they're left in that strange exploratory tension, and then Jacob is moving, sliding up and pressing down into him. He's heavier than he looks, skin warm and suddenly real. He's made of weight and muscle like a man, and he's hard where a man should be. Richard's unpleasantly aware that he might be the reason for that. That his easy acceptance of this sort of attention might have encouraged the reaction. Not the curious and remote touching of something not a man but the gentle exploration of something that wants to know what it means to be one. That Richard may have made him want more than kisses. Far from satisfying his curiosity this might have led him to assume Richard has given him permission to seek more sensation. To take whatever he feels is being offered.

Richard's forced to strange and uncertain tightness at the thought. Though Jacob continues his slow, curious exploration of Richard's waist, the curve of each rib, the softness where his ribcage becomes the muscle of his back.

Until his hands are sliding into the loose cotton at his waist, pushing it free from his hips in one glide. It's clear enough that Jacob wants bare skin under his hands. And this is not a strange moment of curious experimentation. This is Jacob quietly demanding, this is a Jacob that wants something, and Richard has never dissuaded Jacob from anything. Never protested. He's never once said _no_ to him.

"Jacob," he says roughly, unhappily. Because for all Jacob's given him. For all he's done for him, been to him, Richard isn't sure if he wants this.

"Hush," Jacob tells him, voice low and soft, like he doesn't think Richard will protest. Like he thinks he can't protest. The material slides away and there's a vulnerability in the new press of flesh into flesh, Jacob's clothes too fine to hide how much he wants. Whether he knows why or how or not. Before the cloth is sliding free of him too, leaving them too close, too bare. It's too much like sex. Richard's afraid that this is not the way it should be. That worship should not stray over this line.

"Spread your legs," Jacob says quietly, voice thick in a way Richard's never heard it before.

"Jacob -" Richard starts again, half-pleading because he can't, this is too much. He's not the sort of man who can do that, who _wants_ to do that.

Jacob kisses him silent, palms sliding his thighs apart. More blatant than words and Richard's breathing too quickly under him. Hands clenched in awkward fists while he takes every touch and says nothing.

Jacob's fingers slide into his mouth, against his tongue, slipping free wet to glide across the curve of his hip and then lower, to press into him.

His quiet protesting noise is smothered by Jacob's mouth. The hard noise that sounds like it hurts taken the same way when Jacob opens him in quick, hard pushes.

"Let me, Richard," Jacob's breath is warm, mouth hungry where it opens against the roughness of his cheek, where it tastes his skin.

He has no choice but to give Jacob what he wants, to open his legs around Jacob's waist when he slides his fingers free and moves between his thighs. When he touches him, holds him where he wants him, and presses inside.

It's a low uncomfortable pain. Jacob's first push too dry and too strong. Intimate feels too kind a word for it, too _nice_ a word. It's savage, it's like being pushed open and _owned._ It's like he's Jacob's, for whatever Jacob wants.

Jacob's thumb pulls at his jaw, slides across his tongue, leaving him open so he can kiss him again. His mouth is impossibly warm, tongue slow and curious. Nothing like the fierce determined pushes of his hips that seek to go ever deeper. That leave Richard making soft, broken noises into his mouth that are still more discomfort than pleasure.

"Jacob -" He can't say stop, though part of him wants to. The part of him doesn't want to be used like this. But the part of him that will give Jacob anything, anything at all, forces him to be silent.

He's left listening to the soft barely there breath of noise every time Jacob pushes, every time he pushes Richard down into the blanket with his own body All the way inside him, a strange steady shove of flesh that leaves Richard breathing hard and awkward, fingers dug into Jacob's arms. Where his skin is warm like he's been standing, endlessly in the sun.

Jacob's soft voice murmurs against his mouth that he likes this, that this is good.

Richard makes a sound, something soft and helpless when Jacob slides up and in, pushing against something that leaves the world cut through with a shiver of unexpected pleasure. Jacob's fingers trail over his mouth like he hears it, like he approves of it. He digs his fingers into Richard's thighs, and it's a second of bright pain before he's moving again, quicker, greedier in a way Richard has never known him to be. Eyes bright and fierce and fixed on him.

He's somehow deeper than before and Richard groans and aches and takes it and doesn't tell him to stop. Not even when it's ragged and graceless and it hurts.

He feels it when Jacob comes, the shivery half-broken and - God - so _human_ pushes and then a rush of sensation, of possessive heat inside him.

Richard's left shivering as every slide becomes shorter and deeper and finally he's just weight and breath and a long burning ache.

Jacob stays there for a long minute, fingers drifting across Richard's throat, curious at the way he swallows and the soft noises he makes on every breath. Until he softens and slips free of him.

Richard doesn't have any words to say. He feels like he doesn't belong to himself any more.

"Thank you," Jacob says quietly. The words are just breath and warmth against his trembling skin.


End file.
